Pegasus Spy
by Charlania
Summary: Sheppard the space rogue. With his galaxy threatened by a mad scientist like that of his old one, he's just gotta defeat the madman McKay, not fall in love with the sophisticated and wily Dr Weir, and be back in time for drinks. How hard can it be? AU
1. Chapter 1

**Lol, okay I offer sincere apologies for this straight away. It all started about 2 minutes before I fell asleep last night with the random thought of 'I wonder what it'd be like if McKay was a mad scientist, like on James Bond', so, here ya go! This is in no way serious, I just felt like a bit of fun before I continue with my next story thats after my first two, so don't take it too seriously. I'll sketch up the next bit when I can, and have fun reading the first little bit. Expect some eh..'strange' appearances by Atlantis characters, heh.**

"Read them and... weep." John smirked with assurance as he spread the coloured cards out in front of him. There was a reassuring gasp from the surrounding onlookers, only aiding in the strength of his cocky grin. Even his opponent, a large beast of a man, with more hair then a pack of wolves combined managed to show some form of surprise, despite the fact his eyebrows were barely recognisable from the rest of him. He gave a slight grunt, a large vocal effort for him, before shoving himself back from the table and striding off.

"That was... _amazing_.." The words breathed in his earlobe were predictable, but still enough to send a thrill of excitement through various parts of his body.

"Nothing I haven't done before doll." John drawled back, making sure to keep to his accent perfect. "There's just one thing ya gotta remember." He pushed back from the table himself, turning on the chair and staring up towards the space-bimbo in front of him. Or rather, her chest. He gave it the consideration it was rightly due, before finally trailing his gaze up to her face. She was still holding the perpetual look of curiosity plus fear that she might learn too much if she gave into it. As if lines were slowly ticking away in her mind, she suddenly blinked and murmured back. "And what's that then?"

"That all Beltans are colour blind." A dramatic pause, before the surrounding company erupted in laughter. It was always much easier to give the simple line then explain the subtle trickery of nuance and bluffing needed with any social game. Besides, he had promised one of the smarter Beltans not long ago that he'd happily continue to perpetuate the myth. It made it so much easier for them to take their punters for a ride.

"Oh..." The space-bimbo suddenly flung herself at John's chest, arms and hands limp as if they couldn't bare to battle against the air around them any longer. "You're just.. so, brave! The way you tackled that Beltan... I feel I should repay you."

She couldn't have been any more obvious if she'd yanked his pants down at that very moment, but as he reminded himself, he hadn't come to the Pegasus Galaxy, or even the Atlantis Space-Port for complicated women. He liked them how he liked his technology. Simple, and ready to do what he wanted at a moment's thought. Regardless of that though, he maintained the farce. Slipping an arm around her slim shoulders, he led her away from the group, his drawl reappearing once more. "And how, my dear, were you thinking of doing that?"

"Well..." Her breath trembled along with her lips, perfectly poised in their rhythm. "I do have a _very_ nice bottle of Darkan whisky in my room, only for the best gamblers... and well you-"

"Are the best." John's grin widened and he winked at her, calling forth a satisfactory titter from her. It was almost too easy sometimes, he reflected, as she led him with obvious anticipation towards the nearest transporter. Certainly things were a lot easier here then they ever had been in the old galaxy. He'd been lucky enough to escape with a lot of the Stargate expeditions just before the galaxy's rule by that mad scientist had fully taken hold. He was only thankful that she was too busy with the skirmishes and her sidekick to focus on anyone else yet. He suddenly realised that his mind had wandered off, and he was stood in front of the girl's room, she herself watching him with curiosity. His features suddenly broke into a grin, and he patted her cheek. "Don't worry doll, was just thinking of all the fun we could have with that whiskey." Another titter-inducing wink, before he strode into the room with her.

It was certainly one of the wealthier rooms placed on the Atlantean Port, on one of the higher levels that overlooked the sea of the world. Space-bimbo's never earned that much money, most of their payment was spent on expensive trinkets, and often they just received gifts, just like that tantalising whiskey that was already making his mouth water; no it was their 'owners' that paid for all of this. Thankfully most of them weren't jealous types, as long as their girls were looked after, and they didn't try and do anything silly like giving them funny ideas about freedom and independance. Aware that he was yet again slipping into the bad habit of staring off into space, John turned to grin to the girl. In the past few moments she'd already poured them both a glass of whiskey each, and was now watching him expectantly.

"Sorry doll, ya been playing on my mind again." Striding forward and ignoring his obvious lie, he took hold of the glass and gave it a thoughtful sniff. What she thought was mere savouring was actually a very real test of the glass's contents. Too many times people had stupidly tried to drug him. After all, he was becoming quite reknowned around the Pegasus Galaxy. But she didn't seem like the mastermind type, so he took a light sip. There was no grimace, even as it burned its way down his throat. No, he'd tasted worse. But she nearly spluttered when she took a sip. He smirked just a touch as she tried her best to hide the fact she'd nearly just choked, instead cooly watching him. For a moment he wondered if perhaps he'd underestimated her; but there was little time to worry about escape routes as she moved closer to him.

"You know.." She purred up to him, fingers gently trailing against his jawline. "You never actually told me your name..."

Damn, he hadn't had he? It was usually his opening line. Well, better now then never. Downing the rest of the whiskey, he deftly encircled her in his grasp, feeling a rush of pleasure as he noted the way her pulse jumped. "The name's Sheppard. _John _Sheppard."

"What.. like... someone who leads sheep?"

The question jerked him from his programmed repertoire, and he frowned just a touch. So, she was an Earth girl. It was hard to tell these days, who knew how many galaxy's had been seeded with the human form. But it didn't sway him for long. Tightening his grip he suddenly swung her round and down, causing another jump in her pulse. He smirked playfully down to her, his eyes locking with hers. "Actually..." He drawled then, leaving just enough pause to allow her anticipation to build fully. "I prefer to lead women..." Then he bent and kissed her fully, his arms enveloping her in a tight embrace. She moaned and melted just as he knew she would, allowing him to carry her fully with no break in the embrace. It always felt good when things went to plan.

* * *

John whistled as he strode through the Atlantis Port, his previous leather garments now replaced with casual cotton. He figured that the bimbo wouldn't awaken for at least a few hours yet, enough time for him to visit an old friend, get some things sorted, and head off for the next adventure. It was never good to stay in one place, and even space-bimbos could get a little too attached. Especially when he knew just how good he was. As he progressed further down into the Port the traffic dissipated, replaced by increasingly grubbier and more solitary figures. Each with their own 'no admittance' circle around them. It was sometimes refreshing to not have to be all smiles. Smiling around this area could lead to any number of things from making some new 'friends' for life, or shortening your life itself. A light flickered above him and he smirked softly. Just how he'd left it a few months ago. Glancing around to ensure that no-one was watching, he slipped behind a bulkhead and tapped a light code upon the wall. There was no reply for a few moments, before a miniature hologram appeared in front of him.

"Vot?"

"Z!" John beamed at the tiny hologram, sending him a jaunty salute. "Come on buddy, let me in, I could do with a bit of your magic."

The hologram snorted, muttered something in Czech, before flickering out of sight. Another few moments passed, filled with more muttering and the sound of scraping metal, before a hatch in front of him slid open. Another quick glance around was sent, before John jumped in. It wasn't wise to keep Z waiting once he gave you admittance, his devices often had timers of their own devising. The hatch closed once more, and he felt the familiar prickling sensation as the transporter did its magic. When he finally reached his destination, he strode out, sending the real Z a jaunty salute once more.

"Z! Buddy!"

"Do not dare call me zis Buddy!" Z snarled back at him, pushing up the large round glasses that adorned his nose. His face was as ever covered in dark, greasy substances of unknown origin, his hand holding an unknown implement; one that often changed its identity randomly. "Three, THREE months! I have vaited for your return! And, do you, ze great Sheppard bring me back any of my devices intact?" Sheppard opened his mouth to respond but Z waved a random implement towards him. "I shall tell you! NO! Ze stunner-"

"It eh.. fell into a lake..."

"Ze holographic watch-"

"Oh come on! How was I to know that kids love those things? She wouldn't even give me a second look unless I shut him up..."

Z ignored him, carrying on regardless. "Ze replicator, ze copier... all of zese things, ruined! Missing! Given avay to cute children!"

Sheppard merely raised an eyebrow as Z continued to rant, this time in Czech, and moved to inspect some of the latest inventions. He was only stopped when a metallic instrument thudded directly next to his hand, and Z appeared beside him.

"Do you remember vy I came to zis galaxy Sheppard?"

"You tell me enough times." Sheppard remarked with a wide grin, arms folding. But feeling the ever-present threat of time, he raised his hands. "And, do you also remember who helped you come to this galaxy? If it wasn't for me, you'd be stuck underneath that mountain, trying to make the best cup of java for that mad woman. Am I right?"

Z paused, hesitant to give up on a rant halfway through, but reluctantly he did. "Fine, you are right about zat. However, you still have much to make up to me."

"And I will! I promise, eh, just as long as I test out some of your new designs eh?"

Z shot him a glare, shaking his head. "No! Not zis time, zis time... you vill do something for me."

"I'm always doing something for you Z! I put my life on the line testing out some of your inventions."

Not believing a word of his pleas, Z shot Sheppard a look, before gesturing to a nearby console. "Come, sit. Zere is a message I zink you vill find most intrigiuing."

Sheppard eyed the console and then sighed to him. "For the last time Z, I'm not joining the Rebel Forces. There's nothing to damn well rebel against! They've all got these inane ideas about returning to Earth, I mean the whole galaxy's controlled by a madwoman!"

"I always thought women vere your speciality?" Z smirked back to him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeh, well... you know her and that sidekick of hers are like that." As he crossed his fingers, he rolled his eyes. "Besides, I've got a rule against going after crazy woman. Crazy, I don't do. Uh, apart from you Z o'course." Smirking to his old friend then, he sat down beside him. "But seriously, I'm not in for that kind of thing. Lone ranger and all that stuff."

"Yes, vell normally I vould see your point, but zis is something of a different matter, you see... it is possible that soon, if zis threat is not taken care of, that ze Pegasus galaxy vill have a mad ruler of its own."

John blinked at that, eyes widening. "Crap, don't tell me she's heading over here?"

"Vot? Oh, no, no." Z shook his head at that. "Zere is still much turmoil in our old galaxy. Ze Goa'uld still raise many skirmishes against her, and of course zere is ze Asguard and so forth. Although I have heard recent reports that ze High Commander of ze Asguard races has fallen under ze influence of her."

"Good God." Sheppard shuddered at that thought. "I thought those guys didn't even have any emotions? I mean, she can't seriously have seduced him can she?"

"Zere is a possibility that she offered him something he simply could not resist certainly. She can be... very persuasive."

John's gaze flickered to Z then and he sighed, patting his arm. "I'm sorry, I forgot what she did to your best friend. But at least he came to his senses before he died right?"

"Yes." Z murmured, eyes clouding. "Just in time to stop ze building of ze weapon by blowing himself and it up together. He saved many lives that day... I sometimes feel ashamed that I ran as I did."

John shook his head to that, patting his arm once more. "Stop beating yourself up Z, now, what's this great thing you think is gonna persuade me to give up my roaming life and actually help out the rebels?"

"As I said, ze threat is growing here. There too is a mad scientist here, rising in the ranks. One who came from our own galaxy. He has laid low for many years, but now is ze time for him to begin his ascent, and his takeover of ze galaxy. He holds many ideals as that of she who took over our own, yet I hear that he is not quite as smart."

"Glad to hear it." John murmured, leaning back in his chair and listening to Z with interest.

"However, ze threat is of course still great. We, that is, ze rebels and myself, vould like you to do your best to curb zis threat, before he can fully establish himself as a true leader."

"Okay then, who's the screwball?"

"He goes by ze name of McKay, Rodney McKay."


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh man, I am really starting to enjoy writing this story! I apologise to anyone who reads this and finds that familiar characters are just not being themselves but hey, it is AU of sorts, and I've tried to keep some familiar traits in their as well. Anyway, enjoy, and I'll see how quickly I can work up the next bit!**

"McKay... McKay." John mulled over the name openly, before suddenly clicking his friends. "Wait a second! Wasn't he in the Earth Stargate programme? Made all this crap up about how he'd really discovered the Stargate, and so it should be named after him?"

Z snorted, nodding along. "Yes, you would appear to have hit ze nail on ze right head Sheppard. You remember him well zen?"

"Oh yeah, I remember the dweeb." John muttered, before rolling his eyes. "I never actually thought he'd amount to anything though, was always simpering around after you-know-who."

Z shuddered obviously at that. "Yes, but as we know, she only had eyes for ze one man. The great-"

"_Once_ great." John suddenly cut in with then, his mouth setting into a grim line. "He was the greatest hero our galaxy had ever known, until he fell in love with her. Went from hero to simpering sidekick just like _that_." As he clicked his fingers he rose abruptly from the chair. "I learned an important lesson then, stay well clear of smart women."

Z watched Sheppard with more then a hint of concern. Ever since he'd rescued Z from the Stargate programme before the closing of the gate network, Sheppard had become more callous and unforgiving as time passed. In the days before Carter had shown her true madness, using her intellect to try and perfect the galaxy, Z had remembered Sheppard as a brash, but still friendly guy. In the past few years he'd become bitter, and Z had become increasingly worried that one of his oldest friends would end up drugged within a bimbo's bed one night, with no-one eager to bail him out. One too many times he'd wondered if a smart woman was exactly what the pilot needed, but then he remembered just how much Sheppard had looked up to O'Neill. It must've been hard to watch his mentor come under the influence of a woman, turning from charming hero to obliging sidekick in little more then a few days. It had never been discovered whether he had really fallen in love with the scientist, or whether she'd used some underhand methods to get him to help her. In truth, once it was discovered that their hero had changed sides, there was little left to do but scramble towards the nearest Stargate before she put her plan into action. That had been ten years ago now. And while Z had settled happily at the Atlantis spaceport, the old ruins having readily been taken up as bustling spaceport by an unknown benefactor, Sheppard had simply drowned his sorrows in wine, women and technology. Although technology of course wasn't a problem, Z observed as he sent a longing look of love around his lab, as it was the only mistress that would never be fickle. With a deep sigh, he broke from his long internal monologue, tapping the screen in front of him.

"Sheppard, please, sit. You vill have time to rant and rave later, but zis message will interest you no doubt."

Sheppard gave a quiet mutter, but decided to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. Z knew well by now what interested him, so he had some measure of trust that whatever this offer was going to be, it would at least intrigue him. Settling comfortably in the chair, resting his booted feet upon the table in front of him, he sat back and waited for the show. The screen in front of them flickered, a crackle of interference before the unmissable symbol of the rebel alliance popped into view. With a grimace, he recognised it instantly. Maybe they'd thought it humorous to use the gate symbol for Earth as the icon; to Sheppard it just seemed like a stupid link to something that was now firmly lodged within the past. A few moments later, the screen flickered again, and it panned out to show a wide gold desk. The location was obviously some plush office somewhere, but they were easy enough to obtain these days. The lack of movement by plants indicated to Sheppard that it was on a space dock, or even ship somewhere. Artificial environmental conditions still weren't capable enough to cause the illusion of actual air movement.

Someone's throat cleared, and then the camera panned up to a large, unemotional face. The golden symbol resting upon the man's forehead just caused a roll of Sheppard's eyes. Another damned link to the old galaxy. Knowing already who the man was, he showed little surprise when he introduced himself.

"Z, if you are unable to decipher clearly, it is I, T. We have use of your services. Intelligence reports have indicated that the Dr. McKay, a former resident of the old galaxy, is rising in the ranks in the Pegasus Galaxy. Currently, all of our agents are working hard at collecting intelligence throughout the galaxy, and are unable to come to our service right now. However, we are aware that you know of a man with many talents. One who has the gene that is needed to operate the old equipment of this galaxy." The man paused then, having laboured through his words with calm and precision. It was enough of a gap for John to shoot Z a glare. "You told them about my ability!"

"I had no choice!" Z's eyes widened then, his arms spreading with a light shrug. "Zey nudged me in various ways, and T raised his eyebrow at me! Have you never seen that eyebrow rise? It is most disconcerting."

"I'll show you disconcerting!" John shot back, disbelief registering in his eyes. "Have you told anyone el-"

"Shush! He is continuing."

John growled under his breath, before returning his attention to the screen, making a mental note to not let this breach of privacy go unpunished.

"The mission, will be as this; Dr. McKay is highly intelligent, and has not been seen since he arrived here ten years ago. There are however rumours that he may be planning to raise some money, by holding to ransom one of the richest women in the galaxy; Dr. Elizabeth Weir."

A picture suddenly flickered on screen, and John found himself leaning forward despite himself. She was nothing like his usual conquests, with her dark wavy hair and light eyes, but even so he felt himself being instinctively drawn to her. There was definite intelligence within her gaze, and he found himself wondering just how she had become so rich. As his eyes wandered back up to T, he found that he was drawing the message to a close.

"-and so as her wealth and position is beyond that of any other, we believe she will be his prime target. The danger of this mission is obvious, but we trust that it will be accomplished, for the good of us all. T out."

Z turned curiously to his friend then, a grin flashed to him. "So?"

"So I want to talk about what the hell you think you're doing telling that damned maniac that I can work the old technology!" John snapped back, the mission, and the intriguing Dr Weir forgotten for the moment.

"I told you." Z frowned, before rising with a sigh. "Look, zis is ze best offer you are going to receive for a while Sheppard. Ze rebels are small, but zey are experienced, and have great influence. Money and entertainment will be no object after zis mission. And as you well know, your anonymity will remain as it is. No-one will know you have saved the world. You may continue with your life as it is."

It was a tempting offer John had to admit. A chance to really put his old skills to the test. Certainly he hadn't had much brain-stretching in the past ten years, and he couldn't escape the nagging need to find out more about this Weir woman. Glancing back to Z, he sighed. "Fine, I'll give it a go. What do I need to do then?"

"Well, as T explained, the first part of your mission will be zat of bodyguard. If Dr. McKay is planning a kidnap, zen he will not wait long. Of that I am sure." As he moved to arrange some things, Z shoved a large document towards him. "Here, zere is all the information you will require on Dr. Weir and her usual companions. You vill likely have to pretend that you are a new socialite of ze galaxy; a newcomer who has made a great deal of money lately with trading. Elaborate your story as you wish, simply make sure you know everything about her and those of her crowd. Zere is no room for mistakes here." Wagging a finger momentarily, Z then disappeared to gather some vital things.

John watched him go with a raised eyebrow, before resigning himself to the document with a soft sigh. He'd never realised you actually had to read and memorise so much stuff when you were a spy. Thanking whoever that he'd always had a good memory, he then began to flick. The greatest mass of information was financial history for the various companies owned by her friends. It was boring stuff, but certainly dates and figures that he would easily remembered. His curiosity nudged him, and he flicked to the real juice; Elizabeth's personal history. It was certainly an interesting read he reflected with a raised eyebrow. Another refugee from the Stargate programme and the Earth's government itself. She'd brought with her social and political skills that had turned her into a well-sought after hostess for many businessman. After around five years in the Pegasus Galaxy she had finally landed herself the best spot of all; marriage to the wealthiest businessman in the Galaxy. A man named Kolya from some unknown planet that had utilised his natural ruthlessness and negotiating skills to ensure the juiciest of deals for him and his many companies. It was the event of two years ago that intrigued John the most though. Kolya's death in a wormhole accident. What would have been a routine trip through one of the many space-docked Stargates was marred by a malfunction within the ship, causing it to lodge within the Stargate. With only him and his bodyguards, and the comm. systems damaged by the same malfunction, he was a goner. It was certainly one hell of a way to go, John reflected with a wince. And now, the widowed Dr. Weir was the wealthiest woman in the galaxy. Still sought after by many suitors, but seemingly happy to continue with her late husband's estate. He noticed, with a wry smile, that she'd recently invested in 'The Puddle', the galaxy's hippest club that resided on the topmost level of the Atlantis port. Well, it was definitely one place to start.

* * *

The darts blazed across the planet's sky; birthing spirals of light that mingled with each other. It had been a while since John had seen anything as extravagant as it, but then he hadn't been to the top of Atlantis for quite some time. Five years, to be exact, he mused as he lowered his gaze to its normal level. Focusing on the invitation instead, he chuckled softly to himself. 'Come to The Puddle's Annual Earth Celebratory Ball!' John gave a snort. As if half the attendees even knew what Earth was, or at least used to be, like. But, if he'd found out anything, it was that quaintness transcended all racial barriers. Stowing the invitation away, he finally followed the forming crowds into the club itself. He allowed himself a moment, as everyone did, to check his appearance in the mirror. There was just no way to resist smiling at the devilish, cool individual in front of him. Tousled hair, strong chin, not to mention strong body and yes, the greatest final touch; an authentic, Z-patented, spy tux. Amazing how no-one would guess just how authentic it actually was. John perused his image once more, before turning and entering the club.

It was everything he'd expected to be. Old, fat businessmen aided by slinky, beautiful yet dim young women. It didn't matter if there were different species within those constraints. Easily he settled into his natural blending method, slipping through the milling masses, and letting his gaze wander over the myriad of cosy corner tables with their various groups. As ever, his body gravitated itself towards the bar, and deftly he nabbed a prime position.

"What can a'getcha gov?" The guy threw the words like a deep threat and John's gaze swivelled to meet his. Hawkish face, hair swept back into a ponytail... the guy was a bartender association's worst nightmare. The kind who'd count the cocktail sticks and expect to be paid extra for it. Deciding to be particularly dangerous this evening, John shrugged. "Give me the club special." That earned a look of approval from some nearby tuxs.

As the bartender pulled out a stunted, wide-brimmed glass, John found himself being approached by one of them.

"You're a brave one you are." He rasped, setting his own glass down on the bar and folding his long thin frame onto a bar stool. "Been here since the start, and he hasn't given me one damned good drink! Have had to resort to my own supply sooner then I thought." Grimacing at his hard luck he gave a quick flash of his inside pocket, with its silver flask, before placing his attention on John. "Now you're a young one to be without any pretty thing. Been ditched have you?"

John chuckled softly at that, leaning against the bar and forgoing the stool for now. He always preferred few things as possible in the way of his escape. "No, I'm never ditched. I never stick long enough to be dropped." As the old guy snorted at that, John grinned to him. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"Here!" The guy spluttered, shaking his head. "You won't find any free ones here son, they're all tied to the trillionaires! You'd need some fat cash indeed to wean even a cute one away. But then..." As his gaze moved over John fully, it narrowed a touch. "I guess you wouldn't be here if you didn't have some sort of influence eh?"

"Well, I'm new, but I've got a bit of stuff stacked away you could say."

"What do you deal in?"

"Luck." John smirked back to him then, before turning as his 'Club Special' was suddenly slid in front of him. Forgetting the drink's contents for a moment, he already found himself posed with a conundrum. The base was that of a wine-glass, small and yet stunted, but with a wide, deep top that was filled to the very edge. How it supported it only a genius would know, but it did present the problem of how exactly he was going to drink it without spilling its entire contents and having to change his attire. And he had the distinct feeling it would be very un-hip to drink it with a straw. Worst of all was the fact that he knew the bartender was enjoying it all immensely. He'd probably been saving a whole spitwod just for this very drink formation.

"What's it called?" Stalling was always an option of course.

The bartender frowned at the delay in entertainment, but folded his arms and answered anyway. "The Puddle."

"How... original." John murmured then, eyeing the blue contents of the glass. Something flashed on the surface of it then, and darted to the other side of the glass before disappearing again. Blinking, John's gaze shot back up to him. "What the hell was that?"

"A Puddle Jumper... sir."

"Oh how droll... excuse me while I kill myself will you?" Muttered the older guy as he topped up his drink.

It'd get him out of having to drink the damn thing that was for sure. "Fine." John snapped, ignoring the look of delight on the bartender's features. "Get me a funnel."

"Sir?"

John smirked over to him. "What, you think I'm going to drink a club special like any _normal man_! It's a club special! Don't you know anything about style?" Already he could feel the crowd gathering behind him. People loved a show. Especially one that featured an eccentric. Of course he preferred the simpler two-worded synonym otherwise known as 'stupid idiot', but he yanked the funnel from the bartender's hands anyway. "Right then! Everyone stand back... and be careful with the drink mind you, I want every single drop!" God, he really was stupid. Slipping the end of the funnel into his mouth, he straightened his back and waited for the onslaught. Realising after a few moments that he was still stood with an empty funnel in his mouth, he hazarded a slow removal. When he glanced over to the bar he found that the bartender hadn't moved an inch, or even approached the drink. Instead he was giving the distinct impression that smoke was about to come out of his ears.

"That's it!" He suddenly screamed, flinging down his wash towel and splattering the drink all over the bar. "I told her if I get one more of you damned eccentrics in here then I'd be quitting! I don't need this! I'm sick of all this rule-breaking!" With a loud howl he turned and flounced off, soliciting a mere raised eyebrow in response from John. There was a moment's silence in honour of astonishment, before the crowds broke into rousing applause. With little aplomb, a young girl appeared as if from nowhere in a bartenders uniform and began to clear the bar, while John suddenly found himself surrounded by a small group of businessmen.

"My word!" The largest of them exclaimed, his cigar wiggling in its corner-spot. "Been trying for months to get rid of that blasted bartender, never served a good drink in his life, and you did it in a few minutes! You sir, are a master. I'd shake your hand if they weren't both occupied with these two lovelies here." The giggles washing over him, John ventured a quick flick back at the bar. To his surprise there was no sign of the older man. Shaking his head, he glanced back to the businessmen and nodded at an absent comment. It seemed to John, as he was escorted to their corner-table, that the other two men didn't speak at all. It was only as they reached the table and they didn't sit that he realised they were actually bodyguards. Even though they each had their own 'lovelies'. It was a rich man indeed who allowed his bodyguards to have their own entourage.

Slipping down into the limited free space, he politely refused a drink, and instead settled happily to hearing about the man's various business exploits. To his inner delight he'd managed to snag one of the prominent figures in Elizabeth's inner circle, certainly one of the ones that would ensure he'd know all of her latest history. Especially as he delighted in elaborating on the various rumours of Elizabeth's large estate, and the demise of 'poor Mr Kolya'. Settling back for the informative lecture, John lapped it all in happily, replying as need be, but ensuring never to elaborate much on his own situation or experiences. Really, he reflected, Z had little to worry about. From the sounds of it, Elizabeth had a great circle of friends, who wouldn't want her kidnapped and certainly not dead, simply for the sheer power that she weighed over most businesses because of her late husband's estate. This madman McKay would have a hard time even getting close to her.

"Oh! Would you listen to me babbling... please, forgive me Mr..."

"Sheppard, John Sheppard." John slid out reflexively before shaking his head. "And it's no problem, believe me." Suddenly then the lights darkened and he frowned, he was learning so much too. The girls nearby suddenly took on a more bored stance, huddling closer to their protectors as if suddenly threatened, but they weren't quite prepared to show just how much. This could only mean one thing, a beautiful woman.

"Ah... the toast of the evening."

"Quite early isn't it?" John blinked, glancing down at his watch.

"Why wait? Weir knows all her guests are here, so we might as well get on with it! Besides, she performs all through the night."

"Wh-" Finding his question silenced with a quick wave, he settled for finding out along with the rest of the crowd. He didn't have to wait long. Smoke billowed onto the stage, a spotlight slowly growing and trailing. A drum hit kicked in out of nowhere, and then began to heighten its beat. Slowly, voice first, the singer emerged. The song was immaterial to John, similar to many of the recent decade. Boy walks into room, girl sees boy, boy doesn't notice girl, girl wants boy and will do anything to get him. But the voice... it was certainly something that sent chills. As if hooked up to the beat herself, the singer emerged piece by piece along with its rhythm. The sequinned gold dress that was enough to blind anyone couldn't have allowed her much room to move, but somehow her form still seemed to sway as she sang. The gold suited her tanned skin; her hair piled up and treated to much the same treatment as the rest of her body. As speechless as everyone else, John found himself rising and aching to move closer. Glad that there was little movement in the crowd itself, he slid through easily, his gaze never once leaving hers. When he finally found his prime spot near the front of the stage, he found the effect even more intoxicating, and just for a second, their gazes met. She was everything in a woman he'd always strived for... which was probably why he definitely, _definitely_ shouldn't touch. Not even think about it.

"Ah Teyla... mesmerising isn't she?"

This voice was different. Calm, cool, measured. The one that told you that your ship was about to blow up but not to mind because soon you'd be surrounded by all your old friends and families, and there'd be cookies and rainbows, and other things normally associated with paradise. Torn between the two voices, he forced himself towards the newest one.

"Teyla?" He murmured the name. It didn't sound familiar, but whenever did he actually listen to women's names?

"No, she hasn't ever slept with you." A small pirouette of smoke appeared from the patch of darkness beside him, its origin revealed as an elegant form moved forward. Yes, elegance was the only way to describe this form. And it was definitely a woman's. She seemed to blend into the shadows well, aided by the stark black of the stylish contour-hugging black dress.

"I think I would have remembered." John chuckled then, trying his best to regain any sense of what was quickly becoming his 'old self'. It just wasn't right that he'd been affected so strongly by two women in the space of one day; it seemed like some cruel joke by the universe.

"Would you Mr. Sheppard?" The voice was still cool, and for a moment John wondered if he'd imagined the wryness in the tone. He didn't bother to ask how she knew his name, and she didn't wait for him too, simply drawing in another breath before adding. "I congratulate you on your sudden fit of faith in the rebel alliance and your acceptance of their mission. Even though I assured them I was quite safely guarded by the best security people known to this galaxy, they still seemed to believe that a small task force who believe in good values and 'good for all' will always win." There was another indrawn breath, an accompanying puff of smoke, before she finished with. "Whereas we both realised the truth ten years ago didn't we?"

"Cynical Dr. Weir?"

"Simply realistic Mr. Sheppard. Something I learned from my dear late husband." Suddenly she moved and slipped her arm through his then, exposing the rest of her body and her face as well.

John's gaze swept over her reflexively, and he found her even more beautiful in the flesh then that damned picture. The problem was, he couldn't pinpoint why he found her so beautiful. It'd help if she had a large chest, or even naturally poutable lips, or if she quivered at his touch or something but... she was just so cool, composed, and confident. Like him. His soft sigh was ignored as she gestured in front of her. "If you've finished assessing my credentials, perhaps you'd care to escort me to my private office. No doubt you'll want to know my activities for the future, so you can properly 'guard' me."

"Yes, that would be useful." John murmured softly, resigning himself to whatever natural male reaction he was having, before moving off with her through the crowd.

* * *

"Where the hell is it!" McKay screamed, slamming his fist down on one of his consoles. There was a pause, before he shouted. "MIKO!"

In a flash, the girl came scurrying in, her glasses already misted from the pre-scolding tears. Bowing repeatedly in apology, unfortunately resulting in the coffee being spilt, she mumbled. "I am sorry sir, so sorry, so sorry. The machine, and-and-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Rodney snapped back, snatching what was left of the coffee from her grasp. "All I ask for is some damned coffee every now and then, I mean every 3.5 minutes, how hard is it to be precise exactly?" Gulping down the coffee he then spluttered. "And what temperature do you call this exactly! No-where close to that defined in rule 14.05 of McKay's Henchpeople Handbook I think."

"Well-"

"And I should know! I wrote the thing!" Flinging the plastic cup away he sighed softly. "All those long nights, slaving away and for what! A half-filled cup of defective coffee! What is so hard about attaining perfection?"

Realising the shift of attention, Miko snatched the plastic cup and quickly made her escape, just in time to escape another slam on the console by Rodney. "There was only one person who ever understood that, only one... but no, remember Rodney, she betrayed you didn't she? She never even accepted your brilliance, your genius! No, she wouldn't even let you help her. And when she was obviously showing flaws." With a loud snort Rodney turned to find that the control room was empty. A momentary flash of anger was replaced by one of sadness as he tapped absently away at the top of the console. He'd tried so hard to get people to see the importance of perfection. It had come to him in a flash when he was young, in those first piano lessons. If only the world was so ordered, so clinical... just like his beautiful science. "Wait, there was one..." Suddenly remembering, he strode over to the planning table. There was a low growl as he noticed the assemblance of toy soldiers. "Damnit! I've told him time and again to use the hologram system, but no, he has to use those stupid toys." Shaking his head, he shoved them away violently, before bringing up the desired program.

As soon as she appeared he let out a soft sigh of pleasure. "Perfection." He murmured softly, his fingers gently gracing the hologram of Elizabeth Weir. With a touch of awe in his voice he murmured. "Computer, confirm defined parameters of one human female in this galaxy, Dr. Elizabeth Weir."

There was a millisecond pause before the answer came back. "Parameters in every aspect of subject are perfectly matched to those desired as inputted by Dr. Rodney McKay."

Rodney muttered a touch under his breath. "No matter how many times I program that thing it still never calls me 'Super McKay'. But no matter, I'll have someone who'll call me that soon enough." Grazing the hologram once more, he was suddenly interrupted by a bleep from communications. Sighing softly, he switched off the hologram and moved over to the console. He patched it through and then smiled at the visage of Teyla. Not as perfect as Elizabeth, but very much so when it came to her physical skills. "Ah Teyla, you have good news for me I hope?"

Teyla frowned softly to him, before nodding. "I have. I believe I have identified the spy sent by the rebel alliance to thwart your kidnapping of the Doctor."

"I do wish you wouldn't use the word 'kidnap'." Rodney remarked with a wince. "I mean once she meets me in person, she'll come willingly!"

Teyla simply stared at her 'boss', reminding herself just why she was contracted to this lovesick, perfectionist. The answer was simply that he was the only one who was willing to pay a lot for her assassin skills. Even though she hadn't actually assassinated anyone for him yet. "Of course." She finally remarked dryly.

"Well then, have you got footage of him?"

"Yes, I captured him well in my first performance. I am sending you the file now." Pausing to do as she had said, she then glanced back up. "He's currently attending to the Doctor in her private office."

"What!" Rodney stuttered, eyes widening. The last thing he needed was some flash debonair flyboy swooping in before he could astound Elizabeth with his genius. It would just make the whole process so much messier. "Tell me Teyla, is he... handsome?"

"He is to a degree yes. He has a natural charm. However, while many of the women have already fallen for him, the Doctor seems oblivious to his efforts. Perhaps even a little antagonistic towards him."

"Really? That's perfect!" Rodney bounced a touch in delight, unable to hide his glee. "I'll survey the data and send one of the agents after him." As he turned to shut off the transmission Teyla suddenly piped up.

"Wait! If I may, perhaps I could take on the assignment myself? He has been assigned to keep a close eye on the Doctor, as you have assigned me too. It would simply be easier for me to watch him also and deal with him when the time comes." As Rodney sent her a sceptical look she smiled. "Please. I have not had the thrill of a fight for some time now. If we get rid of him too soon, they will only send someone else to watch her."

"Oh, very well then." Rodney sighed, folding his arms in slight frustration. He always had a twinge of fear whenever any of his employees thought of something smarter then him. "But be careful Teyla, you said yourself he has this 'charm' thing." Enhancing his sneer at that he frowned across to his top assassin.

"There is no need to worry Dr. McKay. I am highly professional." With that sombre assurance, Rodney nodded in reply, and then cut the transmission. It was only a moment after that he blinked and shouted at the blank screen. "Hey! That's Super McKay!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so for whatever reason it's taken me... 3 years to update this story lol? Is that a record? I don't know. Anyway, perhaps due to University, I just never had the time to finish this. But now I have the spare time, and indeed the story bug, to fully finish this off. Some of the recent character developments in Atlantis may better fit the story anyway, so maybe it's good that I've waited so long! I should be updating this pretty regularly. For any of you who have been waiting for this (which I doubt), seriously well done on the waiting! And I hope for anyone reading this for the first time you enjoy it.**

Elizabeth Weir's office was sparsely decorated. For a woman of obviously elegant tastes, she seemed to reserve that for her attire, leaving the rest of her life to be dictated by its purpose. A long chestnut desk was the only real piece of furniture in the room, apart from one leather high-backed chair for the office's main occupant. Clearly Elizabeth liked for her guests to remain standing. He felt this was probably because she didn't want them to stay for very long.

Even so, John had expected something that marked the office as hers. Some photos of family perhaps. Even a picture of Earth would have at least added a touch of humanity. But apart from the brown of the desk, everything else had the silver tones of the space-port itself, and the walls were bare. She of course had Ancient technology that had been inherited from her late husband's estate, in particular a touch-panel screen that could be instructed to be seen by all sides, or merely the side of the owner. For the moment, she kept the contents of the screen to herself, and John preferred it that way. The less he knew, he felt, the better off he was.

Elizabeth inserted a small disk into the side panel of the screen, tapped a few commands into the console, and then removed it once more. "These are my planned whereabouts for the next few weeks. Meetings, dinners, galas... that should be all the information you need."

John was surprised by the ease at which she divulged her full whereabouts to him. As he took the disk she added. "I'm assuming this is all information you would have discovered eventually. I felt it best for the future of this partnership, and the matter of trust, that I simply give it to you now, and prevent you the work. That seems fair doesn't it?"

"Indeed." John replied, swiftly depositing the disk into an inside pocket of his jacket. "When you're not at these meetings... dinners... and so forth, where do you usually stay?"

Elizabeth's gaze flickered around the office, and then back to him, as if that was all the answer he needed.

"You stay in this office? All the time?"

For a very brief moment, she sighed, and gently perched on her desk. As her arms folded John swore he saw a touch of vulnerability in her gaze, and then just as quickly her chin rose. "My life is not an easy one, Mr Sheppard. While I must maintain the composure of an impeccable hostess, regardless of my inner feelings, I am also at times afforded the luxury of solitude. Until now a bodyguard has not been necessary because my contacts have relied on my help so much, despite their ill feelings towards each other, that it would be in neither of their interests to do me any harm. And also because I ask no questions and require nothing except their continued business in my establishments. When not in business with them I spend my time catching up on work here. Sleep is something I need little of, and when I do a mild sedative and one of the rooms at one of my hotels is sufficient." Her arms came together in a gentle embrace around her own body. The way she almost hugged herself, caused a tug in Sheppard's chest that he hadn't felt for some time. He felt it should be his arms around her. And not because he wanted to make her swoon, or tremble. But because there was clearly something in her that could only be fixed by another person. And he wanted it to be him. When their eyes met next it was almost embarrassment that caused them both to move away. He taking a step back, and Elizabeth turning to sit behind her desk.

"Solitude however..." She murmured, returning to her musings. "Is not necessarily a gift. I would never profess love for my departed husband; but we had companionship, and an understanding. Now I trust no-one, and feel nothing, because that is the way he wanted business to be conducted. But when I am alone, I am truly that. Alone."

This time, their eyes didn't meet. They didn't have to. Without fully realising his actions, Sheppard had moved to the edge of the desk, and he gently moved his hand forward to graze hers. Just as his hand reached the tip of her palm, he felt his trousers buzzing. Elizabeth's gaze suddenly narrowed towards his trousers, and John coughed before stepping back. "Sorry. That'll be an associate of mine. Excuse me." With quick strides he moved out of Elizabeth's office, waiting until he was a few more steps away before retrieving the communicator from his pocket. Immediately the visage of Z appeared on the viewscreen. The Czech looked as ruffled as ever, but at least he'd lost his grouchiness.

"How is ze mission going?"

"Good, good." John licked his lips briefly, before restoring some of his usual composure. "I've got Dr Weir's schedule for the next few weeks. I'll arrange to be at her events and watch over her. Yada, yada, yada."

"Good." Z nodded. There was a brief pause, and then he ventured. "Are you alright? You seem a little... agitated."

"Damn bowtie..." John murmured, making a show of wringing it away from his neck. He knew it was a feeble excuse. He even knew that Z would pester him about Elizabeth, and why he was so rattled. But right now, he didn't care. "Listen, is there anything else you need? Because I could really do with a stiff drink. And not some stupid giant glass with a freakish creature inhabiting it."

Z shook his head. "No, no. Zat is all. Just thought I'd check that you're still walking. Zere are many beautiful ladies around. Yes?"

As John bridled at this, he then realised that it probably wasn't Z teasing him about Dr Weir, and more likely him just being jealous that he wasn't able to be in these situations. It was true that John was luckier then he realised sometimes.

"Yeah of course Z. Listen, if you're really that desperate, I'll leave one of the spy cameras in the hot tub. It can work underwater right?"

"No! I mean.." Z cleared his throat. "It would be extremely unethical to use technology in such a way. It should be used for the betterment of mankind."

"How about the betterment of your libido? Seriously Z, no-one in the Pegasus Galaxy cares if you're getting off on a little bit of free hot tub action. They'd probably get a kick out of it. Tune into it in about an hour or so, after a few drinks they'll be having some real fun."

"No John-" John cut him off after a quick wink, and then chuckled to himself. He didn't care if Z did look or not, but he figured he might as well give him the chance of getting a bit of virtual action. Not to mention he could do with a bit of action himself. Normally he'd leave it at least a few days between conquests, unless one particularly enterprising opportunity presented itself. But this whole thing with Dr Weir.. and that gold-clad siren, had made him want to be in control of his actions and feelings again. And as if on cue a sultry waitress swept by just a little too close for protocol, and he was pulled into her wake. "Hey there..." He grinned to her, reaching around to grab a glass of bubbly. "How'd you like to taste a real drink? I've got a bottle upstairs that tastes like it was made by the Ancients themselves, and has the knockout power of a Wraith stunner."

Her brown eyes widened. "But... how will I know that I'll be safe if it's got the potential to knock me out like that?"

"Because my beautiful champagne server... I know just the right amount to make you feel like you've ascended and returned to Atlantis, and still keep you awake enough to have some fun. So what do you say?"

She seemed nervous. Rightly so he presumed. The Puddle was the most prestigious club in the whole galaxy. Getting a waitress job was often a stepping stone to becoming part of the singing cast of the nightly shows. If she blew that, then she may not get another chance. But at least now he had some real clout.

"Listen.." He leaned in and whispered, letting his hand play across her back and side. "I've just been appointed Dr Weir's chief bodyguard. I could call in a favour or two... I'd make sure you didn't lose your job. Maybe even get promoted." Hell, it was the least Weir could do for him after sending him round in loops all night. He wouldn't normally have pushed a girl this hard, but he was less interested in the chase tonight and more in the final result.

"Okay." The girl smiled, her brown eyes suddenly sparkling. John pretended it was his hands on her back, and not the promise of a career boost that had done it, but it proved to him what he already knew. Women could use men just as easily as men could use women.

"Good. But before we head up, mind if we stop at the hot tubs first?"

As he led the girl out of the party, he allowed himself one glance back up to the office of Elizabeth Weir. Of course, she was watching him. She sent him one light wave, and then retreated back from the window. John was sure that she'd be safe tonight. Elizabeth was right, no-one except that screwball McKay wanted Elizabeth anywhere except where she was right now. And for that reason, John decided that he could wait one night to start his new job.

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The waitress had been just what John had needed. A beautiful body, and no questions asked. She was now guaranteed a top spot at the Puddle. He knew that because while he'd pretended to doze as she crept out, she'd received a call, and her screams of delight matched those of a few hours ago. When he was fully sure that she was out of his room, he stretched out his tired limbs and let out a long yawn. His gaze fell to his boxers tossed not too far away, but he simply shrugged and decided that his birthday suit was enough cover for a trip to the shower.

As the door to the bathroom shut, Teyla slipped in to the room. That simpering waitress had of course left the door unlocked in her rush to get back to the Puddle. It annoyed Teyla that in this somewhat enlightened world of technology, women could still get ahead by sleeping around with the right man. It made her yearn for the time of her childhood; when her Father ran the village, and people were true. Well, maybe not true, she admitted with the reflection of maturity. But at least they wouldn't sleep with any wandering space-pilot just to get an audition at some tacky space-club. That was not her reason for being here though.

Padding around the room, she took in the sights quickly. It wasn't a bad place for someone of John's obvious low standing in the area. Most of the space was taken up by a king sized bed. One corner housed a large leather chair; one she recognised as an Earth device called a 'recliner'. A tall, lean bookcase housed a few hardback volumes; most of them with pictures of men wearing what seemed to be uniforms, and holding implements directed at balls. Or simply holding balls in general. Nearby was an oak trunk. This seemed the ideal place for a search, though she scanned it first to check for any signs of traps, or combinations required. A snort of disapproval came as she noted it was simply a brown trunk. Not even a creak as she opened it. That at least would have warned her of someone opening it without her knowledge.

Inside was what McKay had predicted. A large folder filled with various files and pictures. The majority of the information seemed to be centred on Dr Elizabeth Weir. The rest showed a symbol she didn't recognise, a man named 'T', and a few notes about McKay as well. 'Madman, perfectionist, arrogant.' They described her benefactor perfectly. Teyla took a few snaps of the information; though none of it seemed to be new to McKay or herself. The symbol, and the real identity of this 'T' was something that he could deal with.

Well, that was her job done. And from what Teyla could see, John Sheppard was no threat. He was simply an Earth pilot down on his luck, using his charms to make his way in the Pegasus galaxy. And she had to admit, that was not exactly something to make fun of. As she turned to go, her eyes fell across a photo frame that had been placed face down on the bookcase. Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, she lifted the frame up to study the picture inside. It showed John standing next to one of the rings of the Ancients, alongside another man. It was clear from the way John was grinning at the man, that he was in awe of him. An inscription read '"To John. A Stargate is like a woman. She'll take you to wondrous places if you know the right things to say to her; but sometimes she'll take you to hell even if you do. Your friend always, Jack."

"He knew a lot about women did Jack. It's a shame he never listened to his own advice."

Teyla's grip tightened on the frame. Her initial instinct was to turn and throw the frame at him. But his sheer confidence in confronting her indicated he probably had some weapon in his grasp. So she replaced the photo on the bookcase, making sure to leave it upright this time, and then turned round towards him.

Damn she was beautiful, John had to admit. If Elizabeth was a cool crisp autumn breeze then Teyla was the warmth of an Indian summer. Even if she had that same infuriating look of confidence that implied she knew more about the situation then John would ever know. But he'd be damned if he let another woman treat him like a puppet in such a short time. "So, did McKay send you? I must admit, for an insane nutjob, he does pick some good uniforms for his lackeys. Brown leather suits you."

Teyla's mouth twitched at the 'lackey', but she bypassed it, taking a few steps forward. "I'm sorry, I've never heard of this McKay. I was... curious about your new position as Dr Weir's bodyguard. She's been a good patron to me, and I felt it was my duty to get to know you better. The door to your room was open, so I let myself in. I did shout. Perhaps you did not hear me over your shower?"

'Damn all women to hell!' John shouted at himself. She was clearly trying to play him. "Listen. I'm not your average Joe who's here to be the muscle okay? I've got brains up here. And right now they're telling me that an interested party you're not, and a lackey you are. So cough up the reason for coming here, or I'll just stun you and deliver you to Doctor Weir. I doubt she'd allow a spy of McKay's to linger too long. Not to mention I met a curious young woman who'd be just right for your spot...."

This was taking too long, and Teyla didn't exactly relish having another one of McKays rants about her missing their rendezvous by a few seconds again. "I'm afraid you've discovered my intentions. It's not something I'm proud of Mr Sheppard. I know nothing of what McKays intentions are with Doctor Weir, he only told me that he wanted information on any new personnel in her life. That's all my job is, collecting information." With a small sigh she slumped down on the edge of the bed. "Singing brings in less than you might think. And I have a son to support. Please..." Her gaze rose to his, strength and yet pleading in her tone. "Just let me go. I can tell McKay that I didn't find anything. But if I lose my job for Doctor Weir, I lose my work for McKay also. I did it all for my son."

John's aim wavered briefly. "I want to trust you." He murmured, before finally lowering his gun back to his hip. His lack of attire apart from a towel round his waist meant he had no holster to shift it into, so he simply rested it against his hip as he knelt down in front of her. "Look, no harm's been done. You're obviously not here to kill me, or I guess I'd already be splattered across my shower drain by now." The slight smirk across her face sent chills down John's spine, with a touch of arousal. He really needed help when it came to women. "And if you need anything else-"

"That won't be necessary Mr Sheppard." Teyla suddenly snapped as she brought the blunt of her dagger round to smack against the side of his head.

"Bitch!" John snapped as he thudded onto the floor. As she kneed him in the groin he let out another expletive that quickly died away as she delivered a knockout blow to his skull.

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"John, John!"

"Not now..." John mumbled, as his vision came back into focus. He felt a heavy weight on top of him, and he moved to push it off. Whoever it was, she was damned heavy. Had he drank so much he'd gone for a girl with more than he could handle?

"Wake up you damned, stupid-" The rest was delivered in a round of Czech, followed by a splash of cold water across his face.

"I'm up! I'm up!" John cried as he sprang up from the floor, then raised a hand to his forehead. Wow, that was one big lump forming. "What the hell... wait a minute." He glanced around the room, darting up fully. "Where'd she go?"

"Ze space bimbo that finally knocked you out and cleaned you out too?"

"Huh, what?" John blinked, his vision fully clearing to focus on Z in front of him. "What the hell are you doing in my room?"

"I called you 5 times in ze past hour, you did not reply so I came into your room. And for the love of God would you mind putting some clothes on?"

John yanked the towel from the bed and wrapped it round himself, snapping back. "Jealous?"

"No, just very, very disturbed." Z replied seriously before turning his back on him. "Now please, ze rest of your clothes on. There is much work to be done. Whichever bimbo you left with last night, she took your wallet and I hate to admit... your communicator too."

"So what?" John remarked as he manoeuvred into his clothes. "My wallet had crap all in it apart from some old Earth ID cards for nostalgic purposes, and my card barely had a few credits on it. I can easily get a new one. And the communicator was dirt cheap.."

"But ze contacts are invaluable! Not to mention it is a direct line to me. If it got into the wrong hands..."

"Oh shit." John's mind shot back to Teyla and he moved to grab Z. "Z! That gold dress girl from the party. Her name was Teyla I think. She's in it with McKay. He must have planted her ages ago to watch over Doctor Weir. She came to my room this morning. Knocked me out cold, don't ask how, and must have cleaned me out. We need to go and warn Doctor Weir!"

"Clothes!" Z shouted, grabbing John's shoes and shirt on the way. "Stupid flyboy, always running around without his clothes. Assuming everyone wants to see his bare chest...."

**Okay that's it for now, hope you guys enjoyed the newest bits!**


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